Always
by 8ounce
Summary: Mornings are hard for Felicity. Leave me a review; I love reading them. One-shot.


**A/N: I updated this because there was some confusion as to what Felicity's going through. Depression is a mental illness that doesn't necessarily need to be triggered by a specific event. Leave a review if you're still confused, and feel free to shoot me a message if you'd like to talk. **

* * *

Rain pounded heavily on the roof, beating out an uncertain rhythm and lashing at the windows in Felicity's small apartment. A thick, white duvet smothered the two occupants of the bed, one of whom had been awake for hours. A muscled arm draped over her waist, and Felicity tried her damndest not to move a muscle, as to not awaken the slumbering archer. Blue-grey eyes stared solemnly at the wall, as they had for quite some time; the depression and the pain that came with it made it difficult for the IT expert to stay asleep for long. The blonde held her breath as Oliver shifted sleepily behind her, exhaling in relief as the breath on her neck evened out again. Thoughts rushed quickly through her head, and she could never pin one down for more than a couple of seconds. She dreaded the moment he awoke, dreaded the conversation that was about to happen. At precisely 7 am, Oliver stirred. Rolling over, he stretched, then brushed his lips over her cheek.

"You awake, babe?" He rumbled, his voice low with sleep. She nodded her head silently, wrapping her arms around herself. Oliver stilled, then placed a hand gently on her arm. "Take your time." He murmured, rubbing her arm gently. Slowly, she unclenched her hands and unwrapped her arms, rolling over to face the ceiling. He leaned over her slowly, careful not to scare her. Unhurriedly, he leaned over and captured her lips in his own, sweetly. Her eyes fluttered, and she scanned his face, blinking away the sadness in her own. He shook his head. "You don't need to hide it from me." He sat up beside her, taking her hands in his. "One of those mornings, huh?" His voice was low and calm. She nodded, and the sadness crept back into her eyes. "What do you need?"

"Time." She rasped, her voice rough with disuse. Oliver nodded, then stood.

"I'll be back." He made his way to the bathroom. The blonde's eyes returned to the ceiling, staring straight ahead. The sounds of the billionaire in her apartment comforted her, and she willed the sadness away, but it settled on her like a heavy, damp blanket. She felt it in her body, muscles hurting everywhere. She was jarred out of her thoughts when her husband moved back into the bedroom, setting a large mug of steaming coffee and two pills on the nightstand. "How's it going?" She looked up, putting out her arm. A warm smile crept across his face, and he pulled her up, handing her the coffee. She buried her nose in the mug, inhaling deeply. She crossed her legs, careful to not let her feet touch the ground. Taking a sip, she fumbled for the two pills, washing them down with coffee. She groaned in relief. "Good coffee, huh?" Oliver commented, a smile playing around his lips. She lifted the mug to her face again, holding up a finger. Setting down her coffee, she took a deep breath. The archer held out his hands, waiting patiently. After a long moment, she put her hands in his and uncrossed her legs, placing them carefully on the ground. Sighing in relief, she stood, moving into her husband's arms.

"Thank you." She murmured into his neck, as he stroked her back reassuringly.

"Always. I love you." Oliver pleated a kiss softly on her forehead. "Now let's get ready to leave."

* * *

Dextrous fingers flew across the keyboard as a blonde head bobbed in time to the music, drawing up reports quickly and efficiently. After finishing her paperwork, she leaned back in her chair, rolling her tense shoulders and stretching discretely. Popping her earphones out of her ears, she closed her eyes briefly, resting her tired eyes. Shaking her head, she reached for her tumbler, taking another sip of the coffee.

"No sleep at all last night?" The billionaire stood in front of the desk, peering at his wife concernedly. The blonde sighed.

"I got a couple of hours." She shrugged, lifting her face for a kiss. Chuckling, he brushed his lips over her nose.

"That means one, right?" Oliver's brows furrowed. She winced. "I thought so." He smiled. "You wanna go out for lunch? Or go home and take a nap?" He made his way around the desk and held out his hand.

"Lunch. I couldn't sleep if I wanted to." She held up the tumbler.

"You should go get a sleeping pill prescribed or something." He shook his head, pulling her up into his arms. He placed his hands on her arms and looked at her, searching her face.

"How're you doing?" He asked, the smile gone from his face, replaced by a look of worry.

"Okay. I guess. It's been busy, so that's good. Takes my mind off…things." She nodded, taking his hand as the strode towards the elevator. As the doors closed, she leaned up to kiss him sweetly. "Thanks for checking up on me." He smiled down at her.

"Always. I love you."


End file.
